Abundances and Secrets - Christmas 1974

The snow had fallen thick like old memory

like childhood blankets innumerous

Snow blue tinged in the morning light

which soft fell

ghost-like through winter clouds

Christmas 1974

Pennsylvania

and the bare trees reaching ink-like

in narrow fingers grasping towards the gray sky

as icicles hung crystalline from their branches

from storm drains

from everything that stood

and all yearning for the earth

But warm inside

the hearth full and glowing

from wood split in autumn and

stacked against the shed

in cords like stiff sleeping soldiers

and enough to last the winter

Comfort

protection

and oh so very safe

5:30 am and my brother and I

bursting at bedroom doors

waiting for our parents to awake

We like tiny runners in pajamas

ready at starting lines

waiting for the gun to go off

(To have that energy again

To have that singular longing

known only by the young

yet slowly stolen by age)

Bleary eyed over steaming coffee

my parents would hand out the gifts

into our hungry little hands

but thoughtfully so

as if each was a course in a curated meal

each to be relished over time

where every gift

meant

something

came from

somewhere

and was measured out

with love and care

For even then

I knew there was no Santa

and we were poor

But the joy…

the joy in their eyes to witness

the joy in ours

like a carousel of thanks

as the antique Christmas train

in its dependable circuit

ran click-clack under the tree

which scented the air

with crisp pine

Love in its circuits always returning home

These were the moments

that found their sanctuary in memory

as our dog Anya ran in circles

but not knowing why

except that everything

was beautiful

And then Grandma and Papap arrived

as my mother watched wistfully

from the bedroom window

as they unloaded armfuls upon armfuls of gifts

from their car

Mom watched plaintively

my father holding her hand

as gift after gift came

as the living room mounted with wrapping paper

A cataclysm of giving

More than even children could fathom

More than even my brother and I could conceive of

Too much

It was too much

But behind my mother's eyes

there dwelt a secret (for now)

The diagnosis was in

This would be my grandfather’s last Christmas

We would be told in time

but not today

not for months

because today was Christmas

and if anything beautiful in this world held any value

then this day

December 25, 1974

love would be held

in the gentlest of hands

And they were

They truly were

And now I am old

but remember the the sweet keepers of my youth

the hearths

the trains

the gifts

winter snows

my mother’s eyes

and every orbit of love that completes itself

I hold them all close

like the last embrace of my grandfather